


The Sinking of Atlantis

by Dorksidefiker



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 20:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorksidefiker/pseuds/Dorksidefiker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which an empire falls to hubris while a Pooka watches from a distance, and Mother Nature is mightily annoyed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sinking of Atlantis

**Author's Note:**

> So, guess who got her grubby hands on the Guardians of Childhood books?

E. Aster Bunnymund stood on the shore, egg-shaped telescope raised to his eye, allowing him to watch as the city of Atlantis was ripped apart. What wasn’t sinking into the ocean or on fire from the constant lightning strikes was being slowly buried beneath waves of lava that flowed from a volcano that Bunnymund was absolutely certain hadn’t been there yesterday. Not that he needed the device; even through the storm, the high waves, and the clouds of ash, the eruption of the new volcano could be seen for miles. Come daylight, there would be nothing left of the single most advanced civilization on the planet but stories and, perhaps, a handful of survivors. Though it might not even have been that; the few crafts he’d seen escape the apocalyptic destruction seemed to be chased by the lightning, which did not abate until the vessels had been struck down.

A shame. Bunnymund had held rather high hopes for Atlantis. They’d even begun creating things with properly egg-like shapes.

A calm spot in the raging ocean caught his eye, drawing his attention from the catastrophe playing out before him. A single tiny boat glided over the water, it’s two occupants untossed by wave and unmolested by the storm.

Bunnymund knew them both, for a certain value of ‘knowing’. The red haired lad was a young wizard, only just out of his apprenticeship. Bunnymund had watched him most of his short life, from his earliest, ill fated attempt at magic (which had nearly ended in a fatal collision with the ground) to this point. He’d considered the boy -- _Ombric_ , he remembered -- the most promising sentient being Atlantis had produced. Open of mind, keen of thought, and eager to learn.

Now he looked tired, haunted, and frightened, red hair plastered to his skull and all color drained from his skin as he looked back on what had once been his home.

The woman was utterly unlike Ombric as it was possible to be. Her face was ageless rather than youthful, framed by an unruly mass of black hair that cascaded nearly to her feet. Her skin was darker than her companion’s, and her expression contemptuous as the volcano exploded, though that might have simply been an effect of the nose that dominated her face. Still, there was certainly no sorrow there as an airship was caught by a bolt of lightning and hurled into the lava below.

Bunnymund knew her best as Mother Nature, though he would not say that he truly _knew_ her at all. She was a fellow traveler on this world, and seemed sufficiently interested in both eggs and chocolate to hold an interesting conversation, during those rare moments when their paths crossed. Mostly, she seemed content to leave him to his business while she went about hers. Like the Lunar Lamas, she felt no need to intrude, and he was happy to extend the same courtesy... even if he did question her reasoning when it came to the creatures she had populated his favorite continent with. While he always approved of more egg laying species, there were some things that even _he_ considered bizarre.

Had the poisonous spurs really been necessary?

The little boat came ashore, and Ombric quickly tumbled out, clinging to the dry sand of the beach as if afraid that it might be washed away at any moment. Mother Nature’s exit was more dignified -- the beach rose to meet her, and she walked lightly as she approached the shivering human. Ombric kept his head down and his eyes averted. The young wizard was no fool, and no doubt wished to appear too insignificant to trifle with. Bunnymund hid himself amongst the foliage that encroached on the beach, content to continue as an observer rather than participant.

“ _ **Go, mortal, and remember this day. Remember the heavy price of hubris.**_ ” Mother Nature spoke with a voice like thunder, and the ground beneath them trembled with her rage.

Ombric fled the beach as fast as his feet would take him, sparing one last glance at the slowly sinking volcano that marked where Atlantis had once stood.

Mother Nature stood on the beach in silence for a few moments, digging her bare feet into the sand. “You wouldn’t happen to have a file on hand, would you?” she finally asked. “The sooner I’m rid of these blasted shackles, the happier I shall be.” She raised her skirt to reveal the iron shackles around her ankles, already beginning to rust despite the spells of binding forged into them.

Bunnymund emerged from concealment, regarding the shackles with what might have been actual _concern_ , much to his surprise. He generally gave little thought to the doings of humans, even those of Atlantis, but what he saw was cause for great concern. The shackles had been meant to bind a being of great power, to keep it from lashing out and whoever held the proverbial leash. The spells were imperfect, riddled with holes that Mother Nature had clearly already started taking advantage of. The cuffs would fall off on their own in a few days no doubt, eaten away with unnatural speed by rust, but as Bunnymund drew closer, he began to truly understand her desire to be rid of them _now_. The metal made his flesh crawl and all his hair stand on end.

He could see a matching set around her wrists, and there was a dark bruise encircling her throat where the matching collar must have once been.

It was amazing she had allowed even Ombric to live.

“I am afraid I do not have anything sufficient to deal with... _these_ ,” Bunnymund admitted, shuddering at having to mention the unwholesome metal even euphemistically. “Perhaps we should retire to my workshop and enjoy a nice, restorative chocolate while we deal with your most unbecoming taste in jewelry.”

Mother Nature let the hem of her skirt drop, hiding the cuffs from view. Her smile was red in the glow of the distant fires. “I would be delighted.”


End file.
